


Winterbloom

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [50]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Immortality Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Nightmares, Parenthood, but the angst is brief, yall really thought i was done dragging gratuitous shorts characters into this verse didnt ya, yes you read the last character tag correctly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 18:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Deep in the heart of the forest, there is a witch-hazel tree, hollow and huge.It has not bloomed in a very, very long time.





	Winterbloom

**Author's Note:**

> from these prompts over on tumblr:
> 
> "Do the boys ever think about getting kids in the future? I feel like they all would have worried but also be for it?? (Oddly enough I think Virgil or Logan would be the most chill about getting a kid)" from a nonnie
> 
> "“I was wondering maybe we could see the uncle babes for the first time? Like when Thomas has a kid? And Virgil being all soft and not knowing how to hold a baby and when he does????? Just falls in fucking love???? My heart can’t take it god” from [@thiamuniverse](thiamuniverse.tumblr.com) (probably not what you were going for, apologies)
> 
> and
> 
> “So in Grandmother, May makes a quip about grandchildren. Do the boys ever consider having kids,or is that something they’re content to leave to Thomas?” from a nonnie
> 
> kid fic kID FIC KID FIC _KID FIC_

Virgil woke up to someone tapping him on the nose. He wrinkled his face, grumbling.

Someone laughed.

“Rise and Shine, Sleeping Beauty,”

“Too early,” Virgil said, gruff.

“Agreed,” came the uncharacteristically petulant voice of Patton, his breath puffing against Virgil’s neck.

Roman laughed again, and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s temple that made him finally blink his eyes open.

Roman was already dressed, and smiling down at the two of them still in bed, entirely too awake for the hour and making Virgil’s heart do things _also_ too much for the time of day.

“We already let you sleep in,” said Roman fondly, “Logan’s made breakfast, and if you let it get cold you’ll hurt his feelings,”

Virgil groaned.

Roman huffed a little.

“Do you even remember what day it is?”

Virgil groaned even louder.

“I can _not_ be expected to remember things like mortal calendar dates before nine o’clock,”

Roman sighed even louder.

“It’s Dean’s _birthday_, Virgil,”

Patton went rigid immediately.

“His first birthday with Remy and Emile?” Roman continued.

Patton shot out of bed faster than Virgil had ever seen him move. Virgil sat up a little slower, though he did feel slightly sheepish.

“Oh, oh, oh!” exclaimed Patton, grabbing the first shirt he saw out of the drawers and pulling it on over his bare chest. Virgil wasn’t quite sure, but it was either his or Roman’s from how it hung off him.

“Gotta make the cake, you said Logan made breakfast, did he use up the eggs?”

“Have we ever managed to use up eggs in this house?” said Roman dryly, leaning down obligingly when Patton tugged on his collar for a kiss. Patton darted over to give one to Virgil too, and then bolted out of the room before Virgil could really react.

Roman sat on the edge of their bed, smiling softly.

“Good enough reason to get up?” he teased.

Virgil leaned in a little, and Roman tilted his head up automatically.

The kiss was short, but there was nothing perfunctory about it, even if Roman responded to Virgil nipping gently at his bottom lip by pulling back and giving him an unimpressed look.

“We have a nine-year-old’s birthday party to be at by noon. Up, Mr. Lord of The Forest,”

“I’m getting up,” said Virgil, “Will you make them save me some breakfast?”

“No promises,” smirked Roman, swooping in to kiss him again and then following Patton out of the room.

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil was making his way to the kitchen. He saw May, in her wheelchair by the front window, and detoured in that direction to greet her.

“Good morning, _Oma_,” he said quietly.

“Mornin,’” she grunted.

“Do you need anything? I’m going to the kitchen,”

“You not to hover like a helicopter parent, for one,” she said.

“Who’s hovering?” he said, grinning at her, “Fine, sulk at the window, crone,”

She snorted, but she really didn’t seem to want anything, so Virgil let it be.

By the time he got to the kitchen, Patton was already wiping down the counters. There was a plate at the table, but every thing else was put away, and Logan was shutting the loaded dishwasher.

“I see you have arrived just in time to avoid cleaning, dear,” said Logan without turning around.

Virgil smiled sheepishly, coming up behind Logan and nuzzling his neck.

“My bad,” he said, “I’ll make dinner,”

“It is incredibly amusing you seem to think you are volunteering,” said Logan, and Virgil could feel him smiling.

“Nope!” said Patton, inserting himself between them and wagging his finger at Virgil, “Kitchen is a smooch-free zone until further notice, last time you made me burn the cupcakes,”

“Pat,” said Virgil, exasperated.

“Don’t ‘Pat’ me, honey, no kisses in the kitchen till the cakes done,”

“Eat quickly, then,” Logan told Virgil, nodding toward the plate, “You have not properly kissed me good morning, and I find myself irritated by the imbalance,”

Patton wavered. After a moment, he sighed.

“Well, okay,” he said, “Good morning kisses are different,”

“I do not believe there is any functional difference between a kiss experienced in the morning versus-”

Virgil cut his youngest husband off with a _proper_ good morning kiss, but Logan didn’t seem all that upset about it, so he figured it was fine.

—

“Hey, Verge, can you holdBrianforaminutethanks!”

And then Thomas was bolting off to break up what looked like some kind of pinata-bat based altercation, and Virgil was holding an infant.

He looked around for Thomas’s husband, Harley, but he didn’t see him anywhere, so Virgil found a lawn chair to settle in for the foreseeable future.

“Hello,” he said. Brian didn’t say hello back, because he was eight months old and long way from talking, though he did let out a very enthusiastic stream of babbled nonsense that Virgil obligingly nodded along to.

“Well you certainly _sound_ like you know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Of course he does!” came Patton’s bright face as he lunged over Virgil’s shoulder and pressed a whole smattering of tiny kisses all over Brian’s face, “He’s the smartest baby there ever was, aren’t you? Are you having fun with Uncle V?”

Brian made even more enthusiastic noises, reaching up his arms and grabbing for Patton, who cooed in response and plucked him out of Virgil’s grasp without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Where’d your daddies go?” he cooed, “Where’d they go, left you all alone, didn’t they?”

“Hey!” said Virgil.

Patton looked down at him, a teasing expression on his face, and Virgil rolled his eyes as he stood from his chair.

He wrapped his arms around them both, setting his head on top of Patton’s.

“I do have some kid skills, you know,” he said dryly, “I’m a great uncle. Took care of Trudi all the time, and she was fine,”

Patton grinned up at him.

“Of course you do, honey, I’m only picking,” he giggled.

Brian twisted in Patton’s grip, looking around and still mumbling. Patton watched him with an expression of adoration that was becoming familiar but that Virgil still didn’t quite know what to do about.

“There you are!”

Patton startled, and then gave Harley a grin.

“Here to rescue him from Uncle Squad?” he said, as Brian squealed and lunged for his father.

“If anybody needs rescued it’s _Thomas_,” Harley grumped, taking him from Patton, “I walk away for ten minutes-”

“He was helping Emile break up some bickering kids,” said Virgil fairly, “Though I, uh- don’t have any clue where he went after that,”

“Right,” sighed Harley, “Well, thanks for watching B. If you do see Thomas let him know I’m looking for him,”

He turned, encouraging Brian to wave over his shoulder as he walked away, and Brian did. Patton waved back.

Patton’s face went a little tense around the edges, still smiling at Brian but with something melancholy just underneath the surface.

That was familiar too.

But when Patton turned back, beaming up at Virgil and looking just the same as he always did. Virgil swallowed the question.

It seemed he did that a lot, these days.

—

It was a week later when Virgil finally managed to work up the nerve to confront Patton.

He was making dinner, and Virgil stood in the doorway for a good ten minutes before he could bring himself to speak.

“Pat?” he said hesitantly.

Patton jumped, turning with his hand pressed to his chest.

“Jeezy creezy, sweetheart, you gave me a bit of a startle,”

Virgil hunched in on himself a little.

Patton’s forehead furrowed, worried.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he said gently.

“Can we talk?” Virgil blurted, and then immediately wanted to punch himself in the face.

Patton raised his eyebrows.

And then he turned, clicking off the burner and moving the pan off the heat.

“I’m listening,” he said seriously, “What’s wrong?”

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek, worrying it.

Better to do it quick. Just get it over with.

“Do you want a kid, Patton?” he said quietly.

Patton recoiled, just barely. His mouth pinched.

“No,” he said.

It was silent for several seconds. Virgil felt distinctly nauseous.

“Together for ten years, married for seven,” he said, a little hysterically, “And this is the first time you’ve ever lied directly to my face,”

“I’m not lying,” said Patton, his voice wavering.

“You think I can’t _tell_?”

“Virgil,” said Patton warningly.

“Why would- why would you lie about that?”

“_Virgil_,”

“And you didn’t- you didn’t even bother to talk to us about it, you just-”

“We _did_ talk about it,” said Patton wetly.

Virgil paused.

“I think I’d remember that,”

Patton bit his lip.

“Not… we as in- us. We as in… me and Roman,”

Virgil frowned.

“Why wou- it’s _kids_, Patton, why- why on earth would you think me and Logan shouldn’t-”

“What happens if we adopt a kid, honey?” said Patton desperately.

“I-” Virgil stared at him, incredulous, “We would- we would have a kid?”

“Yeah,” said Patton, his voice thick, “A kid. A kid who’d be _yours_. You’d be a dad,”

“I’m familiar with the process,”

“And then a kid who’d be an _adult_,” said Patton wetly, “A kid who would grow up, and age, and-”

He shook his head.

Virgil felt like he’d swallowed molten iron, hot and swirling, acidic in his stomach.

“Me and Roman is one thing,” said Patton, his eyes spilling over, “Logan’s parents, Thomas, even Thomas’s children, but _your_children_?_”

Virgil swallowed.

“I don’t want _anything_ that hurts you,” said Patton, firm and nearly vicious, “Or Logan. Not _ever._ Nothing is worth that,”

He shook his head, smiling through the wetness of his eyes.

“Maybe I do want a kid,” said Patton, “But it’s- it’s too much. And it’s not like there’s a lot of fae children up for adoption,”

Patton wiped his eyes with his wrists.

“I am sorry I didn’t talk to you, though,” said Patton, “I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t supposed to be a secret really, I guess I just-”

He smiled a little wryly.

“I dunno,” he said, “Told my self I’d talk to you later and then hoped you’d never bring it up? Seems stupid now,”

“It’s not stupid,” croaked Virgil. Virgil knew quite a bit about avoiding conversation topics that upset him.

Like this exact topic.

Patton sniffled again, and Virgil crossed the room, drawing Patton into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Patton shook his head.

“No, it’s fine, I understand you getting upset. I shouldn’t have lied to you, I know you hate it,”

“No, I-”

Virgil squeezed him a little tighter, pressing his face into Patton’s hair.

“I can see how much you want them,” he said, strained, “I’m sorry you- I’m sorry you feel like you can’t,”

Patton shook his head even harder, pulling back and cupping Virgil’s face.

“Not your fault,” he said firmly, “Nothing to apologize for,”

He wasn’t lying, that time.

Didn’t stop him from being wrong.

—

Virgil winced as Logan none-to-gently pulled yet another plant from the ground.

“Are you supposed to yank them like that?” he said before he could really stop himself.

“Are you the Seelie?” snapped Logan.

Virgil winced again, and Logan deflated.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “That was… needlessly aggressive,”

Virgil gave him a sad smile. Logan swallowed, snipping off the stem from the bulb and placing it in the basket next to him. He discarded the excess in the bucket on his other side, before removing his gardening gloves even though Virgil knew very well there were more bulbs that needed dug up.

Logan glared at his hands in his lap.

“Could we do it?” he asked quietly.

Virgil bit his lip.

“You have more experience on the subject. Though you do not have to answer, if- if it is too much,”

Virgil left the bench swing, crossing the grass between them to sit next to Logan and cup his face.

“Beloved,” he said brokenly, “I already don’t know if we can do it. With Brian, I-”

Logan flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I wasn’t there when they buried Trudi,” said Virgil, “I don’t- I don’t know how I would’ve reacted,”

He laughed bitterly.

“Not well, that’s for damn sure,”

“I did not even _notice_,” said Logan, a little bitingly, “You saw, and Roman knew, but I didn’t even-”

“_You_-” said Virgil, kissing Logan briefly on the forehead, “-are so excited to be an uncle I sometimes catch you casting sunbeams like the world’s happiest lightbulb,”

Logan snorted.

Virgil pulled him forward, and Logan ducked his head under Virgil’s chin. He left his hands in his lap, one of them picking at the rubber band on his opposite wrist.

“Virgil?”

“Hmm?”

Virgil felt Logan swallow.

“Absent of the obvious flaw,” he said thickly, “Do _you_ want a child?”

Virgil bit his cheek. He thought of tossing Trudi in the air, and letting her teeth on his fingers, and making shapes in silk between his hands for Brian until B put his chubby little fingers right through them and waved his arms, covered in trails of silver.

“You know,” he said, “I don’t think I realized until I knew we couldn’t. But, um… yeah. Yeah, I do,”

Logan just barely trembled in Virgil’s arms.

“Me, too,” he said weakly.

Virgil flinched, and cupped the back of Logan’s head to press his face into Virgil’s neck.

Around them, silent and unnoticed, the shadows beneath the flower beds rippled.

—

Virgil woke up to cold air behind him, which was decidedly bizarre, because he knew for a fact Roman had been on that side when he’d gone to sleep.

Slowly, so as to not wake Patton as he pulled himself out of his grip, he rolled over.

Roman was standing in the window, looking haggard and slightly nauseous.

“Roman?” Virgil said quietly.

Roman startled, turning, and for a moment he smiled in a way Virgil hadn’t seen in years, brittle and too-perfect. Virgil’s stomach twisted, but it was only a second before Roman winced, shook himself, and reached out his hands.

Virgil tucked the blanket around Patton and crossed the room. Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist immediately, hiding his face in Virgil’s neck.

“How are you?” Virgil whispered.

“Mostly…” Roman muttered, hesitating, “Mostly confused. Been a while,”

“What’s was it?”

“There was-” Roman swallowed, pressing his forehead to Virgil’s throat.

“The two me’s,” said Roman, “They were fighting,”

Virgil nodded.

“You’re just one you,” he said, “Just Roman, night or day,”

Roman nodded.

Virgil considered telling him – but he didn’t know what to say.

This was the third consecutive night Virgil had been woken up by one of his husbands nightmares.

The first had been Logan – trapped at a full moon revel, and returning to a ghost town collapsing from age. A creature had been hiding in the ruins, but he hadn’t found it. He’d woken up to Virgil gently murmuring, because Logan had dug his nails into Virgil’s arms and wouldn’t let go.

The second, Patton. He’d been singing in the dream and couldn’t stop, and the longer he did the closer the shadows figures around him had gotten, until he’d woken up and nearly screamed because Virgil’s black hair had been in his face.

Roman slept so still, even in nightmares; if he hadn’t left the blanket open behind him Virgil might not even have known, and could pass it off as coincidence.

It could still be coincidence – but it was enough to make Virgil feel on edge.

But Roman was just barely shaking. And they ought to all be awake for it, when… if he brought it up.

So instead, Virgil led him back to bed, and fell into a fitful, restless sleep..

—

The Saturday that dawned the first day of Autumn was something of a holiday, if not in the celebratory sense.

Logan always woke up with a headache, and it was one of the few days he consistently allowed himself to sleep in to a truly unreasonable hour. He responded to Patton getting up for his shift at the bakery, Roman getting up to make coffee and breakfast, and Virgil getting up to get dressed and go make sure the transition between the Summer and Autumn courts didn’t end in bloodshed with the exact same petulant grunt and demand for a kiss.

The transition did go over fairly smoothly, as far as violence went – admittedly with some liberally applied glaring – but it took _hours_. Fae were slow to change; every time the Summer court gave up control of the forest in the fall, they were expecting it to be withheld from the Springs come March. It didn’t seem to make a difference to them that Virgil was _married_ to a Spring.

Virgil understood the trepidation, but it made the Summers near _impossible_ to deal with. He desperately missed the days when he could mostly leave the Courts to their own devices with the caveat they not harass humans. He wondered if he was ever going to get them back.

He exited the hill with the kind of relief usually reserved for people given stays of execution, and started making his way back toward the house so he could take a _nap._

He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

As he started moving from the part of the forest that constituted fairyland into the (very, very slightly) more mundane part, a shadow under a bramble bush suddenly lunged, barring his way.

Virgil stared.

“Whatever it is,” he said, too tired to even care that he was definitely_whining_, “Can it _please_ wait until tomorrow?”

The shadow trembled, and Virgil felt Mother tug on his mind, back toward faerieland but not quite the direction of the hill he’d come from.

Virgil threw his hands up in frustration, and began to follow the pull.

Mother wasn’t speaking to him, which was just as irritating as it always was. More bizarrely, his sisters were equally silent, and wary, like they knew something but weren’t mentioning it, which was… decidedly weird behavior.

He was deep in the forest now, well past where any human would come, or even _could_ come, maybe. Virgil wasn’t sure, and he’d never tried to bring Roman or Patton. Even he rarely came here, if only because he had no reason to, rather than any kind of fear.

But the longer he walked, the more familiar the area became – the trees and the paths. He was beginning to feel a lot more nervous than just irritated.

And then he broke out of the treeline, and his stomach dropped.

There was a witch-hazel tree in the center of the clearing, bigger than any mundane tree could possibly be, huge and achingly familiar. Virgil knew it was hollow, though he couldn’t see from here.

It was blooming. Hundred of yellow blossoms stared back at him.

“No,” he said immediately.

A shadow pushed at his ankle.

“_**N**__**O**__!_” he snarled, “_No_. Not this. I can’t-”

Another shove, more insistent, and Virgil felt like the branches were closing in on him like a cage.

He remembered waking up in the witch-hazel – and he remembered the only other person who had. He remembered a brother who’d been anything but. He remembered losing _everything_ because of it.

“I won’t,” he said, his throat closing, knowing it didn’t matter, knowing that if she’d brought him here it was already too late-

“Please,” he choked, “Please, I can’t- I can’t do it again, Mother,”

No shoving this time, and silence. Even his sisters had left. Virgil was alone.

The witch-hazel knocked, twice.

He should leave. He should turn around and walk away, and leave whatever sibling his mother had tried to build him this time to fend for themself and leave him in _peace_.

There was a small sound from inside the tree, a whimper, partly curious and partly scared, and Virgil’s resolve crumbled.

He climbed the tree, slowly, like if he put it off long enough there might be nothing when he looked in. He reached the hollow, took a steadying breath and peered over the side.

Yellow eyes blinked up at him.

Virgil recoiled, immediately disappearing from the other fae’s sight and pressing his back to the tree trunk. His breath shuddered out of him, and Virgil bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

Whoever it was, they knocked again on the inside of the tree.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Virgil looked back over the side, and got his first proper look at the child.

Her eyes _were_ yellow, though the pupils were round. Her hair resembled nothing so much as a bird’s nest, both in color and disarray. She was also much tanner than Virgil.

Well. At least Virgil had a better track record with sisters.

The child wobbled to her feet, looking up at Virgil again, and reached her arms toward him.

His resolve crumbled. He could no more leave her than he could have left Brian.

He reached in, grabbing her under the arms, and as he hefted her he realized she was _much_ smaller than she ought to be. Or at least, much smaller than he or his brother had been. They’d been born adolescent - If she’d been human, he would have thought this child couldn’t possible be more than four. A _small_ four.

“Hello,” he said.

She blinked, silent and staring. She scratched the side of her head, and Virgil nearly flinched when he saw her nails were black and sharp.

Great. She came with _pointy parts_.

And speaking pointy parts – her ears were strange. At first he thought they _weren’t_ pointed, but when he looked closer he realized they were, but the tips of them were black, nearly blending into her hair. Like some kind of camouflage to hide the tips.

She seemed to have no intention of speaking to him, though she did look around herself curiously.

Virgil blew out a long breath.

“Well,” he said, “Off we go, I guess,”

And he made his way back toward the house.

—

The child remind silent the whole way, and didn’t move much at all except to occasionally glance around her. Mostly she gnawed on the sleeve of the brown dress she wore, and resisted any attempts from Virgil to stop her.

Logan was up now, and in the garden. Already the flowers looked slightly less vibrant, but Logan was nothing if not tenacious. He seemed to have picked up the chore he left off a few days ago, digging up bulbs.

He glance over his shoulder with a wave and returned to it, froze, and then whirled around and stood in one motion.

Virgil grimaced.

Logan took a step forward, cautious, and after a long pause approached them fully.

“You, um-”

“Yeah,” said Virgil.

Logan watched the child like it might bite him.

“She was in my tree,” said Virgil.

“Ah,”

And then in the first real move the child had made since she’d reached for Virgil, she lunged.

Logan’s hands came up automatically, and he caught her with a short grunt. Virgil very nearly had a heart attack, especially when she started grasping with her sharp-tipped fingers, but all she did was make fists in the shoulders of Logan’s shirt and cling until he had her properly held.

“Um. Hello,” said Logan.

The child waved, though she didn’t lift her head from its position on Logan’s shoulder. The corner of Logan’s mouth ticked up, barely.

“Has she eaten?” he said, sounding a little worried, “She’s… she’s very small,”

Virgil winced even worse.

“Yeah, about that,” he said, “I was, uh- sorta carnivorous, exclusively for a… very long time, after I was born. So she might…”

Logan wrinkled his nose.

“I understand. But also, to quote Patton – yuck,”

Virgil snorted.

Logan brought one hand up, touching the child’s hair with a strange expression.

“What?”

“I… have a theory,” Logan muttered, “I will share it when I have accrued more data,”

He turned then, and began to carry the child into the house.

Virgil followed, vibrating with nerves, and a significant part of him was waiting for the child to turn violent. The other part told him he was being stupid, that his brother hadn’t been more than slightly sarcastic for years, and that she weighed maybe thirty pounds anyway.

Neither part was very coherent at the moment.

It had been a bad day for May, when Virgil had woke up this morning. Monosyllabic and grumpy, she’d waved Roman off angrily when he’d tried to get her to eat, and nearly snarled at Virgil when he’d done the same.

But now she was smiling, looking up from her wheelchair at the child in Logan’s arms.

“Pretty girl,” she croaked, reaching.

The girl whined a little, shaking her head and pressing herself closer to Logan. May made an expression that resembled a pouting child more than a woman in her eighties.

“Mamaw, who are you talking to?” called Roman, his voice coming closer as he spoke, “Are Logan and Virgil ba-”

He came around the corner and stopped dead. Virgil shrugged, helpless.

Roman beamed immediately.

“Well, hello!” he said, walking towards them and already reaching.

She lurched forward again, exactly like she had with Logan, and when Roman got hold of her she beamed right back at him. Her canines were just as sharp as her nails, and Virgil felt a little lightheaded.

“Look at you!” cooed Roman, “Anyone care to tell me about our little guest?”

“She was in the witch-hazel,” said Logan bluntly.

The smile slipped of Roman’s face immediately. He looked down at the child, who hadn’t stopped smiling. She had taken Roman’s left hand, and was tapping curiously on his wedding ring.

“Oh,” he said weakly.

“I am going to call Patton,” said Logan, subdued.

While they waited for Patton, they learned a variety of things about the little girl, in spite of the fact that she still didn’t speak. She didn’t like to be put down – any attempt to do so resulted in little whines and at one point her eyes had outright filled with tears.

But she also wouldn’t go with May, who looked increasingly put out by this as the hour drew on. She _especially_ didn’t like it when one of them left the room.

Finally they heard tires in the driveway, and a killed engine and uncharacteristically hurried footsteps and then Patton burst through the door.

“I’m here, what’s the emergen-”

Like all of them, he fell silent the second he saw her.

Unlike the previous times, the girl reacted immediately, squirming and reaching for him and humming wordlessly.

Patton, wide-eyed, took a single step forward, and then moved all at once to lift her out of Roman’s grip, smiling softly and placing one hand on her head.

She fairly shrieked with delight, and when she turned Patton followed her gaze, until they were both looking at Virgil. Her yellow eyes were sparkling.

Virgil’s eyes flicked between the child and Patton – their eyes.

Not yellow. _Gold._

“I’m Linda!” she chirped.

The twisting of Virgil’s stomach had taken on an entirely different tone. He hadn’t noticed – he’d been so focused on the fact that she existed at all he hadn’t actually _looked_ at her.

Tanner than him – the exact same shade as Roman’s skin. Curly hair, _Patton’s_ curls, but brown, like Logan’s, and eyes the color of ripe wheat.

“What the _fuck_,” he choked.

“_Vati_, that’s a _bad_ word!” she exclaimed, and Virgil felt like the floor had come out from underneath him.

_Mother,_ he thought, _What the hell did you do._

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” said Patton, who was looking at Linda with stars in his eyes and clearly already completely gone.

“Yes, well,” said Logan, “That would confirm the theory, then,”

“_This_ was your theory?” said Virgil, strangled.

“Virgil,” said Logan patiently, “She looks like _my mother_,”

“No, no, she looks like _you_,” Patton crooned, his eyes filling with tears and his smile so wide it looked painful.

Logan made a soft, weak noise.

Roman stood suddenly, crossing the room in three strides and cupping her tiny face in his hands.

“Hello, Princess,” he said, his voice thick, “It’s so nice to meet you, oh-”

She grinned at him, her nose scrunching up and Roman made a thrilled noise.

“C’mere,” said Patton, reaching for Logan and Virgil and shaking his hand desperately, “Group hug, c’mon,”

“Group hug!” Linda cheered, throwing her arms straight up, and Virgil’s heart throbbed and his throat closed up and he was across the room before he’d even registered it, showering her face in kisses, while Logan pressed her tiny fingers to his mouth and Patton and Roman held her between them.

Deep in the forest, the witch-hazel shed it’s flowers, a soft rain of vibrant, shining gold.

**Author's Note:**

> yes i really did personify that lock of hair and make it a LAMP kid, no i will not be taking constructive criticism
> 
> im also [tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) over on tumblr! :D


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